Laundry Buttons

March 24, 2008

Because I love to start my week out by crying my head off

That's what I did today. I cried. For forty-five minutes. Solid.

I'm exhausted and it's only 11:00 a.m.

This morning I had my first appointment with my new psychologist, it was a 9:00 appointment, I was crying by 9:01 a.m. I'm amazed at how quickly my emotions will surface and jump out of my body and into someone's ears. I feel like I've just been beat up, but in a good way, I guess.

This is the first time I've even been to a therapist, not that I've ever had anything against seeing a therapist, I just never felt like I needed to see one, until now. And it's not so much that I'm sure I need to see one, I just wanted to try it, for my family. And for me. I go back next week, but my appointment is not until the evening, so that way I can crawl in bed afterwards and fall asleep.

Speaking of sleep, sleep is not coming very easily to me. And if it does, I tend to wake up in the middle of the night, for sometimes two hours, just thinking. I replay everything that has happened, from the moment of not be able to detect heartbeats via doppler to that very moment lying in bed. It's like watching a movie, except it's my movie and I don't want it to be. I notice every detail, many times I remember something new when exploring the land of my mind, but I always end up in that place of sadness, in disbelief, soaking in fear.

Yesterday would have started my 23rd week of pregnancy, I can't stand that I'm not pregnant any longer. Even though it's been four weeks, today, in fact, that I learned of James and Jake's death, I still can't fathom the fact that they won't be joining our family this summer. I can hardly bear it. Really. I can hardly bear it.

Comments

Beth,
Although I had my own 45 minute crying jag last night for completely different reasons, I understand the feeling of being beaten up after it's done. There's this sensation of everything inside coming out, yet not being completely washed away. You want to crawl under the blankets and not come out for a long time.
Sleep doesn't feel refreshing, does it? I get that.
I hope that you find therapy helps. That, like everything else, will take time.
I am praying for you.

Beth. Keeping you in my thoughts today. I hope that sharing your journey with us will also help in the "healing". None of us has been exactly where you are. None of us has felt exactly as you have felt. None of us can comfort you as you need to be comforted. I wish that we could. I wish that I could. But I can pray for you...for your strength. I can pray that you are able to see and experience the joy that is surely around you, even during this time. I pray that you have friends and family that are physically there for you and that they aren't shy about pushing right in and helping, comforting, loving you and your family right now.
Sending you a hug and a prayer. Susan

Crying makes me feel better, even though it does feel like someone beat me up. Therapy? I liked it when I had the right one. To speak to someone, to let it all out and deal with it with someone was by far the best choice for me and I hope it make you feel better. I'm proud of you for making that difficult decision.
Each day I hope for your continued strength and peace. My heart still aches for you Beth.

It was a big step for you to take to go to see a therapist. Kudos to you for that big step!
I hope that this will be a stepping stone for you heart to heal, in time.
I can not imagine the pain that you are having to go through.
My prayers are with you and your family as you struggle to get through this difficult time.
Thanks so much for always sharing your heart with us.
Lovingly,
CJ

The great thing about therapy (with the right therapist) is that you can let it all out without feeling like you're burdening anyone close to you that is dealing with the grief too. I know I have always felt like I had to be strong for those around me but with a third party I could work through my stuff without freaking out my family.

I'm so sorry you're having a hard time sleeping and that you're going through this. Sending you strength.

Oh, I continue to pray for you. I can't believe it's been four weeks. It seems like yesterday, but yet forever ago. I haven't forgotten, and I think about you so much. I will pray for rest and clarity in your mind, and peace. And that you will get your much-needed sleep- the good kind of sleep.

I think you are SO strong, Beth--you recognized that this could only be helpful for you and your family and you made that leap to see a therapist. I'm sure it was a little hard and scary walking into that office for the first time. I think it will be very beneficial for you to talk with someone outside of your everyday life who has counseling expertise. I'm very proud of you...I wish you continued chocolate and peanut butter and lots of naps this week.

I totally understand what you mean about feeling like your life is a movie & you can't get out of it. My family found itself in our own 'movie' almost four years ago & those were the exact words I used to describe it. I never imagined we would be going through something as tramatic as we did, but we got through it. We walked around in a daze for a long time & shed what felt like millions of tears. But in the end we learned to appreciate each other more & say a lot more I love you's.

I'm glad you're seeing a therapist & hope that each session gets a little easier for you. I'm sure it's very emotionally & physically draining, but in the long run it will hopefully be worth it. If you get any good advice, feel free to pass it along to the rest of us :) I'm sure we could all use a little help!

I pray that you find healing through the talking... you are doing all the right things. HUG....LONG HUG.....STILL HUGGING.... (You begin tapping my back, to be polite, but to make me let go, and I squeeze you harder!)...and then I eventually let go.
xoxo

Dear Beth,
Grief is like a giant river. It constantly moves. It carries us places that we dare not go otherwise. It sometimes carries us exactly where we desire. It rises and ebbs and flows. It diminishes. It rages. It overflows its banks. It can free us. It feeds us and sometimes we must feed it. Sometimes it must be paddled gently. Other times it takes our oars and spins us out of control. It takes us over waterfalls that consume us and take our breath away. It seemingly has no beginning. And no end.

But once we are one with the river, we learn the intricacies of it. We can rest on shore. Or near the rock formations. We learn to hear its songs. And the music becomes familiar. We know the history, the science and the geography of the river.

This takes time. So much time. You must feel like you are drowning, but you will come to the surface and the river will pull you along. You will see the brilliant colors of the sky, the trees, the flowers, the shore. The faces you love so very much will be running along with you.

The river will carry you until you can stand and wade through to its edges. But it will never leave you.

Your extraordinary strength will help you row. It is well that you are speaking with someone who is a new face... where you can pour all of yourself out.

My heart is breaking for you. When I think of your loss my heart feels so heavy and I just want to cry. I can't imagine your despair. I know it must be natural. A normal grieving process for any mother. I think you are very smart to talk with someone. ((Hugs))